


I can still feel them, inside my head

by laenamoradadeROGUE (laenamorada)



Category: X-Men (Movies)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-07
Updated: 2015-09-18
Packaged: 2018-02-07 20:08:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1912110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laenamorada/pseuds/laenamoradadeROGUE
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rogue can't sleep, she wants to be alone for just a few minutes, but can't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing
> 
> Thanks to my muse, the original movie line from which the title from this work originated.

Once again, she couldn't sleep. It always happened, the night engulfed the mansion, lights were out by ten, and she lay in bed staring at the ceiling, trying to think. Of course, whether it was Logan, John, Eric, Paul or Bobby, she was never able to sort her thoughts.

    The moonlight filtered cautiously into the room, afraid to wake the other occupants. Rogue watched the shadows play with the moonlight, trying to figure out why. But the reason never came. She felt lonely, even with all the voices in her head she was lonely.

    She believed that stripping herself of her power would make the voices go away, but it didn’t. And she was even more disappointed upon learning that the cure wasn’t permanent, ever since then she covered herself up again, she doesn’t really know if she has gotten it back yet or not, but she’s not the type to take the risk and wonder around sleeveless, in sandals, and, more importantly, gloveless waiting for the moment in which by some mistake she’d realize her powers returned. No, she didn’t need another voice telling her another opinion, clouding her thoughts.

    Logan kept thinking to take another road trip, looking for a bar to spend the night. Eric always had different memories about Poland to share, and in any case, it only enabled for Rogue to believe that he was starting to develop and understand his powers during the stay there. Paul, her dear friend, the only one with happy thoughts, but mostly of the ones she wanted the most to go away, how beautiful her lips and eyes looked, how he'd yearned to kiss them, how impossible her trip to Canada seemed. John, something was pissing him off, no matter what, mostly a general envy for Bobby and everyone that he knew. Bobby, he was always confused about her, why she said her to a relationship, why she took the cure, why he had yearned for her so much and when she is available, doesn’t.

    All of this was too much to cope. Clutching her pillow tight, she still had the sentiments inside of her; she knew that she was all alone in the world. No matter how much the people around her tried to convince her that she belonged here, and she tried to think that there is a place were she is meant to belong, be it here or not she'd find it eventually.

    "Best day of my life…" she whispered slowly, trying to believe that she'd had worse or that tomorrow could be worse. But she never was able to really believe it. I'm for real, this mutation is a part of me, I walk around like a parasite, unable to reach for anyone since I take too much of them for myself.

    A lonely tear streamed to the side of her eye. She yearned for it all: closeness, a mind of her own, normal life, touch... But it is all impossible.

    Ororo said it to her in the first day, there was nothing that could hold back her curse; the school is for control… But there is no way of controlling it. Touch is natural to all beings; touch is an interaction between all beings. Touch… she yearned it so much.

    Paul died, she knew it, no one ever told her, but when his thoughts stopped changing she knew, the coma could only last for so long before it consumed him. Eric greatly wished for power, that's all he wanted, "There is no land of tolerance, there is no peace, not here nor anywhere else", he'd said that to her in New York, it somehow didn't feel so long ago, but it was, five years ago.

    Bobby feared her, distrusted her, and even worse loathed her for choosing to take the cure… These thoughts corrupted her mind, made her self-esteem drop, she was sulky during class, constantly ate less and less… Logan had promised he'd look after her, but right now he had changed so much, she could easily leave the mansion that he was having so much trouble dealing with the loss of Jean and seeming in control for the sake of everybody else in the mansion, she could tell that he no longer cared for her. If she left the mansion, he would notice a month later, if he noticed at all. "There's not many people that'll understand what your going through," he said that to her when she was running again, she stayed behind, but then again, probably not even he understands what she is going through, he is even more troubled than her. 

And John, dear John, he everyday talked about him wanting to be close to her, which only depressed her more, he was not here anymore, and she was not with Bobby now, that made his absence more unbearable that in was before. If he were her she still couldn't touch him, but in a way, they both were similar. His family had countered him when his mutation surfaced, he burned down their house. Many wounds, he didn't wait for them to heal before leaving.

 

    They all controlled her emotions, and pulled her in opposite directions; she wasn't who she used to be. She's no longer Marie. She became Rogue, the person that lures everyone, entrapping them inside her head. Keeps them in her head. It was crowded, the amount if "I" in her mind was overwhelming, during the day when she looked at someone each one had a different reaction, eventually she stopped looking at people. Whenever Kitty, Xavier or Scott cornered her to talk, it wasn't her speaking. The word 'Bub' came out of her mouth, but it didn't feel right, or the Dude from John.

    The pillow in her arms, still clutched on top of her chest, made her take the pain from her mind to her hands, which were starting to lose the capacity of circulation due to the strength that she unforced between them, the pillow became unmovable. She felt alone. No matter what, she'd always be alone. Because if she ever got close to anyone else, the process would repeat, she'd lure them and after the first touch they'd fade away. Paul died, John left within hours, Eric has no idea, Bobby finished their relationship and after that rarely talked to her, Logan kept trying to find himself, and he had so much to deal with, he wasn’t who he used to be to her.

    She herself was becoming more and more introverted, autistic at some point, people around her she couldn't know what they thought, not only because they didn't dare to mention it and because she wouldn't dare touch them to find out, It would just increase the crowd in her head.

    Rogue laid in the heart of darkness, with a clutched pillow on her chest and thoughts that were not hers taking over, the loneliness was becoming ritual and tradition. There wasn't anything much besides seclusion left for her.


	2. My Thoughts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: nothing's mine

She woke up before dawn, still grasping her pillow slightly. She tried to locate herself; she was not in the streets, but then again that time had been so long ago. She was still in her room at her home, if she could call it that: Xavier's Institute; it was a home… for the moment. It was still too cold to get up on such a cold blistery spring morning. But there were classes later on; she might as well try to awaken.

_School's bullshit, it ain't worth my time…_ She never hated school, but this morning that thought flooded her mind, it wasn't a secret who thought that. She grabbed the mattress and covered herself. Standing up, she cautious to not wake up anybody went to the bathroom all the five girls in the two adjacent rooms shared, Jubilee and Kitty were both deep sleepers, so not much to worry about on this side, but she knew that Siren on the other side would awaken easily. She opened the bulletproof door slowly. Once inside she dropped her protective aid and turned to the mirror.

_Marie, you look better than ever!_ Paul insisted she kept looking great. But her face was too sullen, _I gotta get out again._ She didn't want to leave this place, it was exceptional, and now she knew what the streets were. Washing attentively, she rubbed all her sore spots in an attempt to make herself get more color. Another bad night, too many memories. And too many nightmares.

    After finishing with her face she stared blankly at her palms for a few minutes, the temperature had them numb, and the color was uneven, yellow and red everywhere, they were clean, but unsettling. Then she turned to the tub and decided fast that she'd take a calming hot water soak. After opening the door and getting it warmed up, she paused to take her ear to the doors, to make sure the rest were still asleep. The time still remained hers. While she waited a few minutes for it to fill up, she inspected her bruises. After a few weeks, she continued cutting herself with her nails to prove that Logan's power, at least his powers, were out of her. She lowered herself into the hot water, her hairs on her arms and belly stood on end before dipping and getting used to the temperature.

_Too hot!_ Exclaimed Bobby's voice, but she ignored it. _It could be hotter,_ John's voice added in as an afterthought. She considered both thoughts, but it was just okay. She submerged her head and allowed for her mind to clear up. Soon enough, the voices faded, she started to need some air, but she remained a few more seconds, to enjoy the unusual silence… But it was short, too short. _I can't die, no matter what I try._ That was her first thought afterwards, by now she grew accustomed to all the voices being part of her, that didn't meant that she didn't feel the difference between hers and others.

    Lingering, the tub was always calming. At least there wasn't any noise from out of her, just inside. Soon, the relaxation would be interrupted.

    "You have to go back; your mother misses you like crazy. I miss you like crazy" Paul's words rolled of her tongue.

    "Ah can't, they don't know me anymore" she found herself answering, her monologue wasn't a monologue.

    "Remember, kid, I'll come back again." Logan reassured her.

    "Yeah, right, she has enough to deal with to be thinking of the big bad Wolverine." Bobby answered.

    "I love you, the rest doesn't matter, you're inside my heart and I'll be inside your mind" John whispered through her once more.

    "Ah believe ya'll, but Ah can't help thinking that this is only a part of y'all." Rogue replied, fully conscious now. The voices dissipated a little.

_You're a fool, there is no land of tolerance, mark my words, soon enough they'll be after all of you again._ Eric had a different definition of good, and a different view of how to get his self-esteem up. However, she didn't bother to reply. She knew he was right. She got out and dried of the best she could. The towel was somehow too new to do much proper drying.

    After doing the best she could, she wrapped the towel on her torso. Taking the mattress, she rolled it on her shoulders, over her towel and kept her arms inside it. Taking one out to open the door, she shivered once more. She quickly retrieved it after opening the doorand pushed the rest of it with her shoulder, softly and careful not to bang it. Kitty was still asleep, her alarm clock should've buzzed by now, but it was easy to see that it was ruined, it still read yesterday's hour since she had phased through it again. Jubilee moved to one side and the other of her bed. It was still safe.

    She grabbed her hair clip and put it on the towel wrapped around her to avoid it from falling and made her bed. She almost knocked her journal of her nightstand, but some ice spit out of her hand to stop it, she made a shushed yelp. But this wasn't unusual, whenever something extra sensorial occurred, another person's powers would respond. If it had had a bit of metal, Eric would've lent a hand.

    After finishing up, she headed to her section of the closet, she was able to check the hour on Jubilee's watch, and she wasn't a time person. She preferred not knowing, seldom did she ask. However, she noted that it was already 5:30 a.m.

    She picked flare trousers, though large ones. Her knee-high silk socks tried to fall, but she pulled a bit more to avoid such thing. She put on her short heeled boots; those were the ones she always wore. Choosing her shirt was the hardest part, she never wanted one that was too exposed that she still possessed. Laundry day was close, so the options were limited. In the end she decided for a deep purple shirt that covered just to her elbows, however, the turtleneck would allow her not to use scarf today. _Sexy, my love._ Last, was the gloves, she never loved wearing gloves, but it was already becoming part of her, her hands were always where the most danger was held, so it had to be done. For the few weeks that she enjoyed the cure, grabbing things without gloves was one of the simplest things that gave her an enormous pleasure, simple things that people take for granted. She decided for her dark green leather one's they were the one's that allowed her to write better.

    Not having anything better to do, she reviewed what she had written the night before in her journal. At the beginning it was odd to see all the different calligraphies, depending who was thinking, her calligraphy changed to reflect that. Most of the time there were a masculine elegant letters in a neat file on the paper, Eric's. The next one to be very easily found was her own, clumsy and half finished letters. The rest were easy to differentiate, but weren't very common. John's lettering was tiny, barely legible. Bobby's was scabby but rather large. Wolverines at first sight looked similar to toddlers print, but the complexity was to another level.

    She decided against focusing on what she wrote the night before and flipped occasionally to see the different prints that she was able to do. It was a gift, she could easily forge their signatures, if Bobby ever by some strange reason asked her to do a work for him, Mrs. Monroe wouldn't notice it was her if she really thought hard to use his handwriting. _Like I'm the irresponsible school guy!_ However, Bobby didn't talk to her anymore. She broke up shortly after the Alcatraz incident, she noticed how infatuated he was with Kitty that she decided it was best to let him go than to make herself unhappy willingly. Even with the cure, she knew that he just didn’t see her that way.

    "Not yet… Aun tengo siete minutos" Jubilee had awoken, but she didn't seem to want to get up. Rogue was oblivious to whatever the Latin Asian girl had said, but she decided to close her journal at that moment. She turned her light off. She headed to the bathroom once more. The fact that they couldn’t (or could they still?) touch her still didn't get in the way of her flirty nature. She applied some mascara; it helped her to not have such a dark sullen face. She glossed her lips and profiles her eyes with a little dark pencil. Her eyelashes were naturally curled, so she decided against curling them. However, she had to do something with her hair. She combed it, with her part to the center. She wasn't convinced with the way it looked, so she moved it a little to her left side. It was okay; she still had a bit of white on both sides, which made it still seem almost still dead center. _What about more on those lips? It wouldn’t be so bad to just touch them…_ Darn John, he kept being a bit too bold, but deep inside, she liked being his risk.

    Sometimes she wanted to cut her hair,. Her hair remained at breast length; she used to want it short, still somehow wanted it, but noticed that if she did so, she'd have her exposed neck to worry about too. So, that was the end of that.

    "Ugh! It's too early." Jubilee exclaimed as she threw over the pillows, since the door remained ajar, Rogue heard her. She exited; quite pleased with how she'd managed to control the face again, her eyes were impossible. But people were accustomed to her crystalline gaze.

    "Buenos días, chica" Jubilee said slipping past her for a fast hot shower. Kitty was stretching, she slowly opened her eyes.

    "Mornin', Rogue" she said through yawns. Rogue looked her way in response and continued to the door. She was met by Dr. McCoy.

    "I believe Katherine had asked for a wake up call. She mentioned that she phased through her clock, and might need waking a few days before she obtains another one” He was a morning person, one who actually enjoyed getting at six all days.

    "Outta mah way, bu-" Rogue covered her mouth. She realized a second to late that she was thinking too much of Logan.

    "Would you like some breakfast?" Dr. McCoy tried to keep talking. Rogue turned

    "Kitty, wake up call." She said slowly, non responsive to the thanks she got from her and McCoy.. Rogue turned again and walked past him down the aisle. She took the hidden stairwell to the first floor, the long way to the kitchen; she wasn't in the mood for elevators.

    She arrived and looked for some fruit; there was papaya, orange and grapes in the fruit. She took some papaya and cut a piece for herself. She rummaged through the drawers for some honey or sugar to add, she found it and headed to the table. She seated herself and started to drop honey. After a while, the papaya was soaked and she started to cut it and eat it. _Ugh, where's the cereal?_ Bobby wasn't a fruit person. A sudden bamf cut through her line of thought.

    "Gutten tag, Rogue" Mr. Wagner appeared next to her. Not at all startled, Rogue acknowledged his presence by glancing at him; she still had a bite in her mouth. He started mixing waffles for the little kids. It was his special Friday treat for the small guys.

    She didn't look at him after that. _He's just plain weird._ God, John. He was a good teacher. She gave him that. Soon enough the kitchen started to be filled up. Logan was there shortly after his wake up calls and the older students crowded in soon. She exited after the fourth person entered, not wanting to take too much risk. She didn't do well in crowds.

    "Does anyone know where the spare milk is?" was the last thing she heard, _Milk? The question is where the beer is._ There was that voice inside her again. Just another day was about to start.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Aun tengo siete minutos--- I've still got seven minutes.
> 
> Buenos días, Chica--- good morning, gal
> 
> Gutten tag--- good morning


	3. I wanna try, but I can't

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: i own nothing,  
> Rogue has a rough morning.

She headed back to her room to get the necessary books for the morning classes, biology and math. Hoping that today Kurt wasn't going to try some weird experiment.

"Gutten tag, class" he greeted them before starting. "Vell, today you can work on the review for next weeks test. Remember it's everything from mitosis to human reproduction. Rogue stared at her notebook unable to decide whether to open it or not. She finally opened it, in it she always kept a scalpel pasted on one side for the unexpected experiments. She gazed at it.

 _Don't you ever believe that this is what we truly are?_ Her hand moved towards the lusty metal, but she retrieved her hand fast. But her hand wasn't pleased with that, with one luring motion the scalpel escaped the tape holding it down and made its way towards her hand. _They'll never understand, but what exactly? Would humans never understand mutants? Would anybody ever understand her, the Rogue?_ It was hard to tell. Bobby, for one, never saw beneath her pretty face.

Two months ago she tried to break up easily, just after the Alcatraz incident, she saw through him, he wanted Kitty, and her powers would return eventually. Thinking back to when they started dating she dared to wonder…. why had she consented back then? He seemed nice, understanding, which was very farfetched from the truth. Besides, it was better this way. If they were far away, they'd be in less in danger of her. Still, she wasn't complete.

"I, like, completely can't see why she won't answer. Hey, like, Rogue? Are you, like, there?" Kitty interrupted her line of thought. She quickly placed the scalpel beneath her butt and gazed at her, she was perky. "Good. Like, can you tell me why you're, like, walking dead?" she said. Rogue thought for a moment, but was never able to find an answer. Siren was besides Kitty, they were virtually inseparable. She remembers that on her first week, every time she greeted Kitty, Siren was expectantly next to her. That's how she learned their names. The cat and the mermaid, odd couple, but it helped her remember the names.

There was also Colossus and Arty. Bobby and Pyro… but that goes way back. _Baby, you know that we are kept in the shadows in that place; I had to see what is really out there_. John insisted he left for a reason, but she'd rather be here than in the streets, out there anybody could touch her, try to rape her, and all this time without a real home. Wandering from place to place finding somewhere she belonged. Still hadn't found it, but for the meanwhile, this place was okay.

"Rogue?" this time Mr. Wagner interrupted her line of thought. She quickly stopped her thinking and tried to focus on her.

"What'd you want, dude?" John answered.

"You can go now, bell rang two minutes ago." He said simply. He was a teacher; teachers were to be all but peculiar by their student's behavior.

"Thank you, Mr. Wagner. I'll be sure to drop by after" the accent was once more not her own.

"Take care, Rogue" was all he was able to say before he walked off also. He seemed concerned, but Rogue was so absorbed in her thoughts that she didn’t notice. She should get going to math, so she picked everything up, slowly. Halfway down the hall, the elevator opened. She, puzzled, looked at it until it closed. Nobody got in. She was going to continue to the class, but something got her attention. She headed to the yard through the large opened oak doors. It was always rather cool there, even in summer. Maybe Storm always kept it under her control. The temperature lured her and she went outside, then settling under a chestnut tree. She took one glove off and felt the grass. The drops of dew upon it soaked her hand, the critters moved outwardly. She eyed a grasshopper curiously. After a while of just loitering in the ground, she dozed off once more.

In her dreams she saw a mother tending to a little nine year old, they were both happy. She lit a candle on a small cupcake, must've been a birthday, the kid turned the candle off quickly. She laughed and told him to wait until after the song. Lighting it again, he did the same thing. She started to get mad, but didn't want to, it being the kid's birthday. "Now you do as you're told!" she lit the light once more. The kid stared at the candle. Soon after, the candle was holding a very large fireball. The woman was shrieking, though the boy was amused by this show. As she tried to pull him out, he roughly denied. 'NO!!!" and with that the flame erupted behind him and the whole kitchen was being consumed by the fire. Both ran out. Rogue woke with a jolt. "John…" was all she could think, without being able to think much, she started crying, such a sad memory. On his birthday he discovered his powers and his family abandoned him. No wonder he never wanted to celebrate. She sobbed to herself. She clutched her hand with the other one, as she rolled on her back to calm down.

 _It has been better…_ he reassured her, but she couldn't hold herself. Just then she wanted to never have touched John. She sat in silence for fifteen minutes, snuggled against the tree, when she saw Mr. Worthington making his way towards her. Now look who's in trouble…

"Rogue, do you realize that you skipped math?" he was too close to her before she was able to make a dash for it.

"Yeah, so what? Gonna do something bout it, bub?" this time she didn't cover her mouth. Warren was perplexed,

"Rogue?" he questioned.

"Yes?" she said back with strange formality. Both time she found the voice not right in her mouth.

"I'm taking you to the professor." He said, taking her by her covered arm. Yes, shortly after Moira called telling them how he had successfully moves his consciousness to her brain dead patient.

"Nah! Mr. Worthington, please. Y'all only make it worse!" this time it was her talking. He peeked towards her, but was firm with his decision "If ya take me to him, he'll only make it worse!" she pleaded. "Ya gotta believe mah reasons!" she screeched at him, by now several students were looking towards her.

"No. You need help." He said stubbornly. They continued down the empty hall. He was doing this because he was concerned, she was emotionless, she was almost an empty shell. But all she could think of was the calmness that resided in just sitting by the lawn, letting her thoughts, and others, wonder free.

"Yeah, I do. Help to get away from you." She dropped the glove her other hand was still holding and used that hand to remove his bare one from her arm. He yelped slowly, so she did have her powers back. The touch was quick, not enough to put him to sleep, not enough for wings to sprout from her back. Just a few thoughts lingered behind. "Nevah try to go against me, again" she threatened and let go. He crumbled to the floor in agony, still not passed out.

She could only think of one thing: isolation. She needed to think. She ran to the dormitories, was about to enter her room when she heard Jubilee on the phone inside. _What've you done, Rogue? I just wanted to help_. Warren had no idea what he was saying to her, he'd get used as well. Instead of going in her room she continued down the hall to some of the empty bedrooms. She locked the door and collapsed to the floor behind it. "What have Ah done?" she said rhetorically. _Why, you just attacked the enemy. Good for you._ She didn't need Eric's wrong views right now. _That was a hell of a good move; the dick needed someone to place him straight, Marie_. Logan was proud, she hated Logan. _Marie, why would you touch him knowing what you are?_ Paul was the voice in her head rationalizing her one step too late. Bobby and John stayed quiet, luckily. She couldn't take it anymore.

She screamed, a scream worse that Siren's, it was piercing through the whole hall like a cry of death. Everybody heard it. Agitated, she was unable to find any good way of explaining herself. She felt her heartbeat continued to increase. Tears once more welled in the back of her eyes. She stood, but her legs failed her and she crawled to the bed. She snuggled against a pillow. Once more lonely. Lonely, but crowded. She wanted to die right there. I can’t die… It was impossible.

Logan’s psyche would always surface whenever she needed it, it was a natural part of him, hence of her too. She noticed that she still had that scalpel in her back pocket. Pulling it out, she decided that there was only one thing to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. This story is already completed, but im posting the chapters slowly. Comments are welcome. Flames share be gifted to Pyro.


	4. Who am I now?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rogue shuts off the voices.

Her scalpel was still in her hand. She gently pressed it to her palm. It didn't heal. She took a deep breath, now she knew that Logan wouldn't interfere. Still in the empty room she didn't dare to make anything going on audible. At the distance she could hear arguments, possibly Jubilee and Kitty. But there was also some laughing, she heard it, but she wasn't sure where it came from.  
Leaning out of bed it sounded as if it was from outside on the grounds. Sitting on the bed, she exhaled deeply and left the scalpel on the bed and moved to the window on the wall adjacent to the wall, this being a corner room it contained a window to the right and a bathroom at the end in which there was another one, smaller though.   
There in fact were some people laughing outside. Colossus, Bobby and some others were outside laughing their heads, caused by impersonating different people, Rogue wanted to smile amusedly at that. But her facial muscles denied movement. She felt herself going into a deep trance, with too much thoughts reigning over her once more.   
Your sacrifice shall mean our survival, Eric whispered to her. He was right; she didn't want to make them suffer because of her. It would be best to find someplace else, someplace nobody could retrieve her from. I don't like the sound of that, bub. Marie, you know you can always talk to me. He reassured her over and over, but it had become an empty phrase, poorly elaborated to bring her up, but it only deepened her more into the mist of her solitude. He isn’t coming for you, and I am not coming back either, at least I'm not trying to feed you hopeless faith. John, honest, but to an extent not necessary at times.  
With the idea fixed in her mind she returned to the bed, sitting without facing the door that led outside. She slipped the scalpel between her two fingers, index and middle. Seeing it in the light she knew that the metal was worn out, and that it was a bit too thin to cause serious damage. Thinking especially of Magneto she was able to change the scalpel to what could be defined as a very small dagger. Doing so was exceedingly exhausting. She leant back on the bed once more to hold herself in place. She slumped, remaining at the edge in which she could barely graze the ground with the limp arm that fell to the side.  
A few minutes later, she awoke with small intakes of breath from a nightmare. This time, it was Eric. A scene of the holocaust was projected very vividly in her mind, one in which he was only able to eat a few grains of bread left behind by the tougher people and for drink, lick the water that accumulated on the ground from the constant rains. It troubled her, to say the least, to see a person in such situation.   
Steadying herself, she remembered what she must do. Make it stop, for everyone.   
With her fully attention to the task in hand she conveyed the small dagger towards her skin, not to her palms that still had a bit of trace of blood, instead she went for her throat. Holding the dagger stiff in her right hand, she touched around her neckline with the other hand to situate the correct place where she would easily lacerate and release a large hemorrhage. She felt her pulse in one of the major extensions of the arterial system and slowly but confidently reached the dagger to it.   
"And this room is where you'll be staying. Welcome to the Institute" interrupted a voice booming behind her that had just opened the door. In that spare second she hit her neckline in the right spot. Warm liquid gushed out, and she felt a little better.  
'Merci. Does de room include la belle fille?" a strange voice replied to Mrs. Monroe. She looked towards the room and instantly noticed Rogue.  
"Rogue?" She asked frightened, she was not even certain that it was her. Rogue however did nothing to respond. She stared blankly to the wall. Oh, the mighty X-men always interrupting us, John sarcastically said in her head, but very weakly. His voice left her.  
The strange male had entered the room. After dropping a bag to the side he continued towards her, concerned that somebody was actually sitting in a bed that wasn't theirs, and had just become his. As if not to shock her he moved slowly.  
Rogue could feel the blood leaving her body. She was enjoying the feeling, taking in the seconds that freed her, the rushness through her body that it made her feel: a thrill, or a high. But during all this she was self-absorbed, what would appear to the passerby that she has a very strange fascination to the blood, but in reality she was experiencing one of her favorite feelings. She thought of nothing but black, numbness starting to take over her, specially shutting Logan out. If he surfaced at all, his powers could kick in.  
"Merde! She's bleeding!" the man yelped once he sighted her face and neck properly. Storm ran to her side.   
"Rogue!" she said to the unresponsive body. The thrill was better than ever. "I got to take her to the hospital wing." She now turned to the man.  
"Gambit can help. Lead the way, ma amie" he carefully surrounded her body and lifted her up, seconds later his shirt too was bloodshed. The dark color of her turtleneck misled how much blood she'd already lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations from Gambits French:   
> la belle fille - the beautiful girl  
> ma amie - my friend
> 
> Thank you for reading. Comments are welcome, flames shall be gifted to Pyro.


	5. I thought dying felt worse

She felt herself being hoisted and she felt sudden gusts of wind sweep her hair also. She readjusted her sight and noticed that she was no longer seeing the wall, but a bloodstained shirt that was not her own. She yelped.   
"Shh, is okay" a voice from above her said. She tried to crane a bit to see, but her injury became an impediment for that. She continued watching her blood over the shirt, that was the only her position and eyesight allowed her to see in stunned silence.  
"Through here" said somebody close by. Whoever was carrying her slowed down a bit and carefully set her on a bed in the med lab. She could only see the ceiling, but at least she was still focusing on the objects outside of her mind. She noticed the presence of Xavier.   
"Rogue, I'm going to try and read your mind. From here I can only not see your thoughts, but too many to sort this way. I'm going to hold my hands to your head, just above your skin, to focus better."  
"Aren't you afraid of what you may find, Charles?" Eric replied dryly from her.   
"Rogue, don't talk. Ease your thoughts"  
"I tried to stop her, but she wouldn't let me" Warren pressed on.  
"She does things her own way, dude." John's voice rolled of her before Xavier could reach her. Mrs. Monroe and Gambit were still in the room. Ororo looked paler than ever, whilst Gambit had been taken by her beauty and awed by her actions, seeing her do all those different voices got his attention a bit too much.  
"Storm, Gambit, I am very sorry but I do find it best for the two of you to depart. Thank you very much, once more, Gambit" Xavier added before facing Rogue's problems once more.   
"Didn't see that one coming, Chuck?" Wolverine came out. Rogue closed her eyes. It was okay for now. Wolverine had taken control. She started to slowly heal. Professor Xavier watched in deep amazement that she still had his active power. Rogue tried to surface from the sea of thoughts in which she was hesitant to leave, but it was a too deep to reach the surface.  
"Professor?" she asked tentatively. The wound had just finished healing  
"Yes, Rogue?" he asked back to make sure it was her this time.  
"It's me. Ah'm very sorry. Ah shouldn't have skipped math, Ah shouldn't have touched Mr. Worthington. Ah shouldn't have made that scalpel into a dagger and punctured mahself. Ah'm sorry." She talked fast and devotedly.   
"I understand, Rogue" he answered, just to reassure her. Just then, Dr. McCoy entered the medlab.   
"No, ya don't. What ya can see is so distant to what is really happening. Don't ya see? The strong willed are taking over mah ahead." She seemed to be talking to herself.  
"That's all right, Rogue. I would like you to stay and rest here for a few hours. I have over here a sedative that might allow you to sleep soundly for at least five hours. How does that sound? No nightmares and no memories for a while, so that you can: Rest. I believe trying to sort your thoughts doesn't always yield beneficial, if you could use that word, results." He said slowly. She hadn't tried to interrupt. She nodded looking at him.  
"Char--" She clapped a hand over her mouth.  
"Oh, and yes, we will have to figure something out for the speech. That has been out of line for quite a few months, hasn't it? I believe that Eric, Logan and John tend to express themselves through you since they are much more or merely more powerful than you. But there is a way around it if I am correct" he smiled to her. She still didn't budge from looking at him.   
"Okay" she said quietly.   
"Depression and shyness is a major factor in their influential activities, consider this." Dr. McCoy added in, she nodded eagerly.  
"Yeah, Dr. McCoy" She said.   
"Good. Now Dr. McCoy has come to give you the sedative. You might know all to well that I am not an expert on the subject, or at least that Dr. McCoy is much more knowing in this area.”   
"Is Mr. Worthington mad at me?" Rogue talked confidently, sounding more like herself.  
"No, though he did seem to be in quite a shock from you past actions. Very rash of you to do that" he said. "Oh, and I advise for you to visit Gambit and Mrs. Monroe after you leave to thank them, they did save you, you know." He said softly. She laughed a bit.  
"Ah knew what Ah was doing, but yes, their intentions were good" she replied, she always knew that that part of the Wolverine was ever present. She can't die.   
"Remember the gloves, Hank" he added in an undertone to him on his way out, hopeful that Rogue hadn't heard it. She obviously heard, though, she did have Logan’s keen senses.  
"Ah would've told him anyways, Professah" she said from behind.   
"I know you would, Rogue" he looked up to her before exiting.  
He left noisily and Dr. McCoy quickly got the necessary things together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Comments would be welcome, flames too, but only because Pyro likes them so much.


	6. I want to try, I know i can

            Time passed swiftly under the influence of the drug. Her peaceful slumber was never interrupted by all the comings and goings of the people that visited her in the med lab.

            Jubilee, Kitty and Siren had come between giggles and hushes to see how she was doing. They only found her asleep drooling a bit on the pillow holding her head up, no sign of the past injury. That same lack of wound or bandage left Gambit dumbfounded when we went down again to see if she was better. He stayed behind, wondering if he had imagined the cut or they had some pretty darn good medicines here. Wolverine came at around the time that she was due to wake up, wondering who the other guy was. They both exchanged glances and stayed to the two sides of the room.

            A while after, she started to give signs of waking. Oblivious to the fact of being watched, she yawned and stretched. She noted she was still wearing the bloodied blouse and thought it better to head up to wash it.

_Enjoy your rest, kid?_ Logan was first to rise. She answered in their heads. _I'm glad; your face looks even more beautiful than ever._ Paul praised her again. It was back to normal. She thought back to what Xavier told her: she needed to be aware of her surroundings and try not to get swept off the top by them.

            Wolverine walked towards her, unsure on what to say. Gambit still lay against the wall.

            “So, you still got a part of me?” he joked a bit. She was not amused.

             “Logan, Ah can feel ya inside mah head everyday, you know that. Your psyche reacts for every single fucking thing that AH go trough, your and every bodies thoughts flooding my mind. _Your_ nightmares make me not want to fucking sleep. And _Your_ powers save me every tahme Ah feel that Ah can’t take it anymore.” She explained, she knew he cared for her, she knew he had changed a lot. But, then again, so had she.

             He opened his mouth once, trying to answer her, but he closed it again after he couldn’t find the right thing to say. She stood up from the bed she was sitting in. Her glance was no longer leering into him, she calmed herself, somehow with regret about getting so emotional.

              “I’m sorry.” He said, she could sense that he really meant it. _You know I care for you, Rogue_

            “Don’t be sorry…” she considered. “Ah’d rather it be you, who wants to kick and fuss about every little thing than Magneto who wants to me to die at any option that there could be. It is thanks to _you_ that Ah can make my physical pain match my emotional pain and still live. You have no idea what Ah’m going through.” She said, yes, dripping bottled up feelings all over the place.

            He smiled, she knew that he would always be there. She just had to remember to ask for his help, he wasn’t a psychic, after all. He hugged her, taking the necessary precautions they both take.

            “Rogue, look, I know that things are very hard on you, but you have to try and be strong.” He said those words, knowing that it might help and it might not also.

            “This coming from you? Ah know Ah have to be strong, it’s just that sometimes things get too crowded and Ah, well, Ah can’t take it. Everybody has their phases every once in a while. Ya had yours too” she countered. He blinked deeply, she was right. Knowing that he had helped a bit, he remembered of somewhere he needed to be.

            “I hope you feel better, I’ve got to go give a Danger Room session to some of the juniors.” He told her. As he went towards the door he looked back. “Take care, you know I’m always there for you” he stated.

            “Ya don’t know how much” was all she could reply, but he was already gone. After a few second she remembered how bloody her shirt was and started to leave for her room. As she exited, she turned the light off. She was a bit surprised to see somebody standing there besides the door. She didn’t hesitate and boldly talked to him.

            "Who are ya?" she said a bit too loudly.

            "Remy LeBeau, since last he checked." He replied. _Why on earth is this freak talking in third person?_ John complained. She didn't respond.

            The guy was no longer wearing a bloodstained shirt, but he had a trench coat that was a bit bulgy in some pockets with too many contents, shades that reflected red and jeans. His hair was dark auburn and his bangs were long enough to end above his eyes, giving him a fairly sexy look.

            Rogue laughed. Completely unexpected by him. He eyed her curiously.

            "What bit you, p'tite?" he said. Finally leaving his place on the wall. Rogue was laughing even harder from the soundless steps.

            "Mr. LeBeau," she said, muffling her laughs and trying to keep a straight face. "Do you always walk around different premises with your slippers? Or is it a special occasion?" she said. But after she finished the continued to laugh.

            He looked down to his feet. "Oh, no, chère, I was on'y wearing dis as to not wake le belle femme dorme" he smiled at her, trying to hide the awkwardness he felt from her noticing.

            "Well, Mr. LeBeau, Ah must say that's something. Ah'll leave ya now."

            "Bye' she waved.

            "Where are you going? Perhaps Remy may escort you, chère" he said again.

            "Well, 'chère' doubts that she wants an escort, merci" she said mocking him. And left him. Once on the elevator she let her thoughts roam, she knew that they had something to say, as expected voices flooded.

            _You are just playing him, right, Marie? Because you are my girl._ Paul said to her.

_Who'd ever thought that the Rogue would ever be so bold?_ John commented.

_She's not thinking straight, she's still got some drug in her system._ Bobby tried to reason.

_Excellent, more distractions, Rogue, the time is not precisely accurate._ Eric also complained.

_Kid, I don't like the looks of him._ Logan accused.

_What just happened back there?_ Warren was assimilating, good. She smiled to herself, answering to all.

            "He isn't mah type! What are ya'll thinkin'" she exclaimed. At exactly that moment he reached the elevator, a knowing smile covering his face. She glared at him and he said nothing more.

            Once on the second floor she was going to go straight to her room, but then she hesitated a moment before entering. She went back to the room she had kept herself in the morning; luckily it was empty. She picked up the dagger and placed it in her back pocket once more. She returned to her room happy.

            After being able to change she headed to the library to get the assignments from Kitty and proceed to do them while the rest were dining since they finished early. Afterwards, from a very long math work she went to make herself a vegetarian wheat bread sandwich and a glass of milk. After that she headed upstairs, took a quick shower and started to write in her journal.

            A new calligraphy took place when she was starting to doze off. After a while of her hand supposed to be lingering on the paper she stared at it and saw everyone's thoughts. Smiling to herself she placed it on the bed stand and rolled to a side to try and get some sleep. Deep misty thoughts reached her head in no time. Not quite sure who they belonged to, she kept to the dream. It was still only twelve. The nightmares would come soon.

            

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, i wrote this back in like 2005, but i thought I might share it with you here at AO3. I have a little epilogue for you guys, though.


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